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<title>When Nothing's Wrong, Nothing's Okay by Im_The_Doctor (Bofur1)</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24619135">When Nothing's Wrong, Nothing's Okay</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Im_The_Doctor'>Im_The_Doctor (Bofur1)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Undertale (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Denial, Denial of Feelings, Emotional Baggage, Emotionally Repressed, Ignoring your problems: Sans-tested and Sans-approved, Paranoia, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Sans (Undertale) Has Issues, Stop it. Get some help, Unresolved Emotional Tension, What else is new?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:15:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>550</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24619135</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Im_The_Doctor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>True to form, Sans keeps telling himself that everything is fine.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Asgore Dreemurr &amp; Sans, Papyrus &amp; Sans &amp; Toriel (Undertale)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>94</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>When Nothing's Wrong, Nothing's Okay</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sans tells himself it’s all fine.</p><p>He tells himself it’s fine when he shuffles into Toriel’s kitchen, drawn by the comforting sound of her laughter. She’s trying to teach Pap how to make her infamous butterscotch pie. As he slides through the door, Sans already has three different Pap-<em>pie</em>-rus jokes lined up to make the old lady laugh harder and then whoops. There’s fine dust coating Papyrus’ scarf, spilling down his front.</p><p>For a moment Sans’ throat tightens, his eye aches and his soul beats white on red, red on white, dirty, brother, no—and then it’s all fine. Papyrus is proclaiming his victory over the big bowl of flour and Toriel is tutting over him now, trying to brush him down. The dust just won’t come off.</p><p>Sans drops his jokes (“<em>Butter</em> just surrender to her mothering, bro; you’re not getting away <em>scotch</em> free!”) and Papyrus screeches at him exactly how he should and everything is fine.</p><p>He tells himself it’s fine when he rolls over one morning and sees snow falling outside. He clambers out of bed onto the floor, barely aware, and crawls to open the frosted window. His nonexistent stomach roils and his sockets go empty and his soul screams <em>No!</em> and somewhere nearby the kid is laughing.</p><p>Their footsteps crunch through the snow, they’re laughing as they run, he <em>hates</em> that laugh and oh. Oh, look, there they are. The kid is in the yard with the dogs, packing and throwing snow poffs for them to chase, and everything is fine.</p><p>He’s missed the snow, Sans tells himself as he sinks down on weak knees, resting his skull against the windowsill as the frigid air floods into his room. Really. For sure. Missed it like an icicle to the eye socket. Eye-cicle? Heh.</p><p>He ought to check again how long Surface winter lasts. Not that it really matters, of course. Everything is fine.</p><p>When Toriel gifts them a bouquet of golden flowers to bring some color to their home, it’s neat. Papyrus starts talking about that little old “friend” of his, idly wondering where he could be now.</p><p>When Pap is flurrying about on a stressful day, searching for his car keys, and he makes some lament about losing his head if it wasn’t attached, it’s just dandy. Human idioms sure are something.</p><p>When he sees the kid grab half a dozen knives from the silverware drawer to set the table, and the kid <em>sees</em> him see and the blood drains from their face, it’s all cool. In a rude way it’s gratifying to watch them squirm as they cut their food.</p><p>When he notices Asgore tense and tremble on their walk, and he follows his gaze across the street, it’s…huh. There’s a kid over there. Judging by the tutu, she must have just come out of a dance recital. She’s got glasses, a few pretty ribbons in her hair.</p><p>That expression, Sans notes as he stares up at the king…That’s the expression of someone who knows everything is decidedly not okay. Someone who can’t help but let it show. He can only hope his own mask is a little stronger, after so much time to practice.</p><p>“It’s fine,” he tells Asgore shortly, breaking him from his reverie.</p><p>They keep walking.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Don't rope Asgore into your not-coping mechanisms, Sans :/<br/>By the way, the title is from the song "End of Me" by Ashes Remain; you should really give it a listen, it's great</p></blockquote></div></div>
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